If I knew then
by Mariss95
Summary: AU, pre-island. Oliver is still a playboy when he meets Felicity in a club. He's not her type but she's not herself that night.
1. If I knew then

Hi! This is a response to the following prompt an anon sent at tumblr:

"_AU olicity where Oliver is still a playboy and he meets Felicity in a party or club. Oliver and Felicity hook up and then keep seeing each other, keep having sex. Only for felicity to find out that Oliver is with Laurel."_

So here it goes :)

It doesn't contain spoilers

Enjoy!

* * *

**IF I KNEW THEN**

Felicity pushed through the rowdy crowd until she reached the bar. The club was packed; it was well past two in the morning. She signaled the bartender and ordered another margarita. It would be her fourth, or was it her fifth? She shrugged that thought off, she deserved it anyway.

This wasn't like her. Felicity Smoak wasn't really a party animal but when Carrie had invited her along, as she usually did, Felicity had said yes. She had put on her best heels and tightest dress, done her hair and make-up while downing a glass of wine and left her apartment. There would be no more tears.

Still as she looked around at the cheerful crowd that danced to the music, she wished she were home. The bartender tapped her shoulder and set a new drink in front of her.

"Thanks. How much do I owe you?" she yelled, her voice drowned by the loud music. The guy shook his head and pointed to the other side of the bar. Felicity followed his lead and met eyes with a handsome stranger. He gave her a slight nod and a broad smile. If she had been sober she would have felt offended, but today she wasn't her normal self. It had been three weeks since her world had crumbled down, as she had walked in on her fiancé with another woman. So instead she smiled back and downed her drink, meeting his eyes. She saw over the rim of her glass how the stranger strutted towards her until he was standing inches away.

"Hi" he simply said, eyes travelling the length of her body. "Can I buy you another drink?" he finished, signaling her now empty glass. She merely nodded, feeling heady, and not only because of the alcohol. The stranger leaned against the bar and, after placing their order, turned to her. He pressed a hand against her hip and leaned in to whisper sultrily in her ear. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his hands on her, his velvety voice drawing her in. A few whispered pleasantries and she was craving more of him. She knew he wasn't her type, that any other night she would have sent him off with a sarcastic remark. But not tonight, she just wanted to feel something other than pain. So she let him take her away and for that night she forgot about it all.

* * *

The next day she awoke in a strange bed, her head throbbing, barely seeing straight. Sitting up she took in her surroundings until her eyes fell on the sleeping form beside her. Memories from the night before crashed over her like a tidal wave. The club, drinking, a very handsome stranger, flirting and then the sex. A faint blush crept over her cheeks as she recounted how he had dragged her into his bedroom, hauling her up without any effort, and taken her against the wall. Then their clothes had been tossed away as they begun kneading, exploring every inch of new skin revealed.

She looked down at herself, red marks beaming on pale skin, and held the sheet tighter against her naked body. She was starting to panic, a little voice telling her this wasn't her, when he slid his arm around her waist. _Oliver_. That was his name, the one she had cried in the middle of the night.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he mumbled, nibbling at her neck.

She hesitated, not finding a clear answer. This, as unlike her as it was, felt right. For the first time in a long time she was enjoying herself, troubled thoughts gone. So how bad could it be? Making up her mind she turned around in his arms and brushed her lips lightly over his. For now she would just _feel_.

* * *

And feel she did, every other day for the next few weeks. He would call her up or she would text, and before she knew it he was knocking at her door. It was intoxicating: the sultry smile he would send her way as she let him in, his hand cupping her face so delicately, the feel of broad hands against her thighs, how their lips moved in sync. She craved for him, and gave as much as she got. Now her nights were filled with ragged breaths and desperate touches.

She wasn't proud of it. After all, she barely knew him. But it felt too good to let go, knowing the moment he was gone from her life she would have to deal with her past again. So she gave in to him, time and again.

It was almost two months after they'd first met when she found out who he was. Up until then they had gone only by first names, trying to keep it simple, uncomplicated. They hadn't shared much personal information about themselves, and it had all been done in secrecy. So she was taken aback when she found his face plastered on every magazine in town. What made it worse was the gorgeous woman holding his hand and the striking diamond ring she wore on a particular finger.

She felt numb, a humorless chuckle escaping her lips. Of course it had to be. Oliver Queen, _her_ Oliver, was getting married to his long-term girlfriend. She should have seen it coming. Oliver seemed like the partying, cheating type. At first she didn't care, she really shouldn't care, they were nothing. Yet it hurt, more than she expected, especially the thought of _being_ the other woman.

He reached out to her that night. His once welcoming touch now made her flinch away in disgust. He looked hurt, not being used to rejection, but eventually walked away. Felicity leaned against her door and downed a glass of wine, unshed tears clouding her vision.

* * *

**_Thank you for reading!_** As always, encouragement or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)


	2. Love your memory

I usually won't continue this sort of drabbles inspired by prompts, as they're meant to be stand-alone pieces, but inspiration struck with this one and, as it was requested a lot as well, thought of giving it a try and making it a multi-chapter story. I don't know how long it will be. Knowing me, it won't be that long, maybe five chapters or so.

Anyway, I have all you wonderful people who reviewed to thank for this! And also the ones that added this story to their favorites or alerts. This kind of support really means a lot and, as you can see, encourages me to write more.

So again, thank you thank youuu! And I hope you like it :)

* * *

**LOVE YOUR MEMORY**

_I don't want to see you or feel you_

_I don't want to look into your eyes_

_I don't want to touch you or miss you_

_I just want to love your memory tonight_

_You were something else to look at_

_Your intentions they weren't' all bad_

_You tried to make me something I wasn't_

_Lord knows there ain't no future in all that_

She should've seen it coming.

He had been back almost a month now. She could recall clearly the morning she found out he was alive, barely it seemed, or at least that's what the news were saying.

It had been over five years. Five years since she had last seen him that fateful night he came by to apologize, after she had found out about his fiancé. Five years since she had slammed the door behind him, drinking herself to oblivion, swearing never to think of him again. Five years since she had last felt his touch, felt the warmth that was Oliver in her life.

It had been over five years since he had sailed away with his father and his fiancé, only to get lost at sea. But now he had come back.

Felicity stood petrified by the door to the salon at Queen Manor, her eyes glued to his back, where he stood across the room. She didn't think he would've been there. After all this was a business event, one Walter had insisted upon her attendance, and he wasn't seen anywhere near Queen Consolidated now or even before, actually.

But there he was. As he turned around she studied him from the distance. He looked the same in many ways; same deep blue eyes, towering height that felt just right and a sly grin in place. Still he was different.

Hard lines marked his face now and the cockiness he once displayed in every move was now gone. He stood still, broad shoulders and ample back rigid under his well-tailored suit. He looked uncomfortable, tense and on guard. The Oliver Queen she once knew was his best with an audience, navigating the crowds with ease, being used and even craving the spotlight. This Oliver seemed anything but.

He seemed bothered by the proving eyes of the crowd in his house that was more than eager to figure him out. Though he was trying to play it off, nodding numbly at the men talking at him, she could see right through it. It was strange how easy she could read him.

It's not that Oliver hadn't been in her thoughts during his time away. There'd been many nights where she had lain awake pondering the what if's. What if she had asked him to stay? What if she hadn't met him at all? Would he still have gone away?

To this day she still had his voicemail on her phone. Though it was quite pointless, since she now knew it by heart.

"_Felicity… please answer, I know you're there… Can you just… fuck! I tried to tell you. I wanted to. This thing with Laurel, it's complicated, but it's not like you think! You just… I knew you would be upset and I didn't want to stop seeing you. I can't. I get that you need some time so I'll back off for now, but just know I'm not gonna quit on you, ok? I'm going with my dad to China for a few weeks on our boat. Laurel is coming too, just so you know. I'm gonna sort this out, I promise. Just… don't close the door on us, please. Wait for me… Ok, I should go. Please don't hate me."_

Not even a week later she was standing at his funeral. She had stayed by the back, grieving something that had barely started before falling to pieces. Though short, her relationship with Oliver had marked a before and after for her. She had replayed his voicemail, trying to etch to memory the sound of his voice, the way he said her name.

After that she had taken the offer to work at Queen Consolidated, and had devoted her life to it. Only Tommy knew of their affair; he had seen surprised at seeing her there at first, but hadn't said anything about it. After all he had been grieving his two best friends.

Over the years she had kept her head down, grateful that her time with Oliver had stayed between them and hadn't made the tabloids. What a field day they'd had unburying Oliver Queen's dirty secrets. After Walter had officially taken over the company he had taken a liking to Felicity, promoting her and even giving her an office of her own. On her spare time she had helped him uncover covert deals going on in the company, some even from his wife. Felicity had gradually found out there was more to Moira Queen that met the eye.

She had been with Walter, actually, when the news broke out. Billionaire cast-away had been found alive. His father and Laurel Lance hadn't been as lucky, Oliver being the only survivor.

As Felicity watched him in the normalcy of his home it felt strange. A champagne flute in his hand, QC executive talking him up, women everywhere eyeing him appreciatory. It seemed normal enough, except it wasn't.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Oliver turned around, piercing blue eyes meeting hers. Even across the room she saw the sharp breath he took, easily recognizing her. There went her theory he had forgotten about her, about them. She didn't know if she should feel flattered or scared. She had spent so long trying to forget him, his touch, the way he had made her feel and his words from that voicemail. And with one single look it all came crashing back.

Oliver excused himself from the conversation going around him and walked through the crowd, oblivious to the curious eyes on him, until he stood before her. She stood paralyzed by his gaze, mouth agape, trying to think what to say or do next. She could bolt out of there, but her feet were anchored to the spot, entranced by him.

At her silence a small smile stretched on his lips, one that unlike the ones she had seen on him before looked quite genuine, amused.

"I remember you talking much more" his gravelly voice instantly sent a shiver down her spine.

"Yeah well I'm not used to talking to the dead" she winced as the words replayed on her head. "I mean I just didn't think I would ever talk to you again, alive or not." It sounded harsh, even more that she intended it to be, but ultimately it was the truth.

She had spent five years replaying those two months with him. Hating, loving, missing, cursing, cherishing those memories. Finally Felicity had concluded that it was her fault as much as it was his. She had fallen for it, his whole charming act, even though she knew, from that first moment he had walked up to her at that club, that he was trouble.

Still she could swear there was more to him that the playboy persona it appeared at first glance. There was kindness and love in the way he talked about his little sister, worry when he talked about his troubled father and his parent's ever present fights; amusement and devotion when he told her of his adventures with Tommy. There was so much more to Oliver than simply lust and bravado, and those were the moments that made her miss him the most. The ones that made her stop hating him. The ones she remembered the most during the time he was gone.

But now he was back, standing in front of her, making jokes about how she used to be, and as wonderful as those memories were, the anger came bubbling back up. She was pissed for everything he had held from her; the lying, the cheating, Laurel. But most of all, she was mad at him for giving her hope. She wished he was a villain, that way it would be easier to hate him. But he was sorry, even for the immature guy he was back then, she could tell from him voice, from his hurt expression before the door shut before him that he _was_ sorry.

"Felicity" he whispered, amusement gone from his tone. She snapped her eyes shut, trying to control the heat that took over her at the way he said her name, wishing away the memories from her head. She couldn't let him get to her again. She was stronger than that, she had to hold on to her dignity.

Blue eyes opened and met his inquiring ones. Felicity mustered all the strength she could, suppressing her anger and pain, and put her best poker face on.

"Oliver" she replied, sternly. "Welcome back. I'm glad you are safe". That was polite enough.

He seemed slightly taken aback by her coldness, remembering Felicity as nothing but warmth, the one he had held onto on his harshest time on the island. It dawned on him that her memories of him may not be as fond as his, knowing how they had ended. To her she was that same jerk who had cheated on her, or actually on his fiancé with her. If only she knew how he regretted it all, how many times he had replayed those moments and wished he had made it right. If only… but he couldn't. The only point of being seen in public, at events like this one, was playing the playboy Oliver Queen persona, pretending nothing had changed. That was the only way he could be the arrow at night without getting caught. Except everything had changed; everything _but_ his feelings for her.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the static of the microphone; his mother's speech was beginning. When he turned around to face Felicity again she was gone, her retrieving form sliding through the main doors before he could call her out.

Turning back to the party Oliver downed the champagne left on his glass. He let her go this time, but not for long. The promise he had made himself on the island on constant replay on his mind. He would come back to her and make it right.

* * *

So this was part two. There will be more, that I'm currently working on. I hope you like the path this story is taking.

I'm experimenting writing Oliver thoughts as well as Felicity, because as neither of them does a lot of talking here, and they are both suppressing their thoughts and feelings, I feel is the best way to let you know what's going on.

As you can see, their feelings for each other aren't as shallow as they seemed in the first chapter. Now that we've found out what she has been up to in those years it's time to explore what happens next. FYI, Oliver's story in the island as well as what happens in his personal life at the begging of the show remains cannon, minus the Laurel factor since she died on the yatch.

Anyway,_ please review_! Just some kind words or, even better, comments or constructive criticism make my day.


	3. Center of attention

_**A/N:**_ Wow, the response has been fantastic! It really means a lot, thank you!

I know there are many blanks to fill, like where certain characters are and Oliver's side of their relationship… and it will all be explained eventually. For now we have some insight into his thoughts now and a glimpse of the past.

Oliver in the island is the same cannon as the show. Also I'll be following the plot of the first few episodes of season one for now, except the Laurel factor.

Hope you like it! I really love hearing your predictions and doubts. Please, keep them coming :)

* * *

**CENTER OF ATTENTION**

_But I'll take my time if you want to_

_And I'll give you what ever you need_

_And I'll wait a lifetime to give it to you_

_Give in to you_

It had taken four days. It was a mere four days after that QC party, after she had last seen those blue eyes again.

After spending five years trying to rid Oliver Queen from her memory it had all fallen apart with just one look, one short exchange. After that night she had rushed home, fighting to keep her feelings at check. Oliver Queen had changed, but the effect he had on her hadn't. The pain and anger that had bottled up inside when he was pronounced dead had burst out and it had taken everything in her not to lash out on him.

After all what was she but just another notch in his belt. At first it had been enough, his intensity and expert touch taking her by storm. But quickly it had turned into much more, at least for her. She had to remind herself that all he knew about him was a lie. That the man that was on the news made much more sense with the Oliver Queen she had met that night at the bar.

Still there was that damn voicemail. The words echoed in her head, the pleading tone, asking her to hold on.

Felicity sunk into her chair trying to refocus on work, shaking that thought away. There was nothing to hold onto.

A knock on the door startled her, almost falling from the chair entirely.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you"

She looked up and met those eyes, the ones she was trying to forget. There was a small smile on his face as she sat back straight, playing it cool.

"It's ok. I spaced out."

An awkward silence stretched between them as she avoided meeting his eye, instead focusing on the beat-up laptop he had in his hands.

"What's that?"

"The reason I came by. I knew you were great with gadgets and stuff and thought you could help". She eyed him questionably; surprised he even remembered that much about her. "It's my laptop. I spilled a latte on it and was wondering if anything could be recovered."

She took the battered computer from him and chuckled under her breath at its appearance.

"Really? Cause these look like bullet holes."

Oliver shrugged it off, throwing a feeble excuse about his coffee shop being on a bad neighborhood and flashing a charming smile.

He was playing the playboy card, one that had worked all too well years ago, but this Felicity wouldn't fall for that. Instead she focused on the laptop, cringing at how destroyed it looked. Manhandled computers were her kryptonite. Oliver eyed her as she worked; deeply thankful she hadn't call on his lie.

A few minutes passed in silence until she stopped working, a deep furrow appearing between her brows.

"How did you know where to find me?"

Oliver froze unsure of how to answer her without making her mad. It seemed like his brain malfunctioned whenever he was around her, as he proved with his latte excuse.

"Back then we didn't tell each other much. You didn't even knew my last name".

From his silence she got her answer.

"You knew who I was?"

Oliver smiled sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. My family's security detail found out about us and insisted on a background check. They said it was a standard procedure. I couldn't say no."

"And you didn't think I should know that?" He simply gave her a pointed look, knowing mumbling another apology wasn't going to help much. She huffed at his silence, "of course, I shouldn't be surprised; you and your secrets."

He was slightly hurt at her words, though he couldn't deny it; she wasn't wrong. He was keeping more from her than ever before, half his life now being lived in the shadows. He wished he could let her in but he was still figuring it out all himself, still testing the waters with her, to see if she was who he remembered. She was even better.

He had been drawn to her back then. First by her looks, then her wit and tenderness had latched onto his heart, though at the time he hadn't known how to handle it. It wasn't until everything was lost, in the solitude of the island, that he really thought about them. Back then he had been a man of action, the few words he spat out were mostly lies to get what he wanted; except with her.

From the moment they met she never asked anything from him. Not his motives, his money, fame, not even his name. She didn't expect anything in return nor had a secret agenda. Felicity Smoak was only interested in _him_, and that had been a refreshing change in a world where everyone tried to pick him apart.

Over their few weeks together he had ached for more, running away from Laurel's side, feeling smothered and craving the easiness of his thing with Felicity. It wasn't really a relationship, really. Neither had labeled it but in many ways the level of intimacy they had shared topped many of his previous partners. He had told her about his family, even the dark parts hardly anyone knew. She had been open, inviting, not judgmental and wiser beyond her years. Felicity Smoak was something else and he knew he didn't deserve her, not then and not now.

"Oliver…" she said hesitantly, drawing his attention. "I'll work on it… Are you okay?"

She couldn't help herself. Even through the anger and dark place having Oliver back in her life meant she wasn't blind to the broken man that stood before her. One moment he was fake smiling the next he was deep in thought, worried lines on his forehead, the confidence that defined him before now simply an act.

Oliver pondered her question for moment, his rehearsed answer of _'I'm fine'_ dying on his lips. He didn't want to lie to her, no more than he did his family but, unlike them, he didn't want her to think of him as he was before the island. The shell of a man that came back wasn't enough either, but he was intent on apologizing and letting her know she wasn't just a few heated nights in his memory.

"No. But I will be" blue eyes met; no mask in place, letting her see a glimpse of the real him.

She gave him a slight nod, appreciating his honesty. Oliver hesitated, wishing to stay with her but sensing her discomfort. He couldn't rush this, no matter how bad he wanted to. With one final smile he turned around and walked away, leaving a confused Felicity behind.

Once again she slumped back in her seat, his laptop pressed against her chest. This Oliver seemed like an opposite to the boy she remembered; cautious, apologetic, guarded, remorseful. As much as she wanted she couldn't drive him away, she was equally captivated and curious about him, wanting to peel off the layers that seemed to cover this new self.

Yet she couldn't get too close. She knew how easy and oh so wonderful it was to fall for Oliver Queen, but also how devastating hitting the ground had been; those memories as clear in her mind as their happy ones.

No, she would let him come closer, hear him out. They were adults now, after all. She would be civil and read him out, secretly seeking the part of Oliver she had heard on that damn message.

Forgiveness didn't come easy for her, but forgetting was ever harder.


	4. Untouchable

A/N: Hi! Again, thank you all so much for the kind words!

I hope you like where this is going

* * *

**UNTOUCHABLE**

_Untouchable like a distant diamond sky,_

_I'm reaching out and I just can't tell you why_

_I'm caught up in you, I'm caught up in you_

The dance went on for a few weeks.

He would pop up at her office in QC with a favor to ask, whether it was to trace an old "friend" or a shipment of arrows; one time even to override a program's security that she was sure wasn't part of a scavenger hunt. Still she never called his bluff, simply quirking an eyebrow at him to make it clear she wasn't buying his made-up stories.

It surprised her how at ease he made her feel. He was cautious in the words he spoke, fewer than the old Oliver used to say, but still a slew of half truths, she had to remind herself. There wasn't the expected awkwardness between them, mostly silence as he watched her work and a few muffled laughs when she ran her tongue; a trait that hadn't left her over the years.

Yet it wasn't lost to Felicity how his eyes lingered on her face longer than necessary, how a warm smile took over his face every time they met, how he delayed leaving and swallowed the words that threatened to be said. Instead his blue eyes would pierce through hers, weakening her defenses, making her question why she was putting up walls when it came to them.

When he was gone and she was left to ponder on it she always came back to the same answer. She didn't _know_ him, she never really had.

Oliver Queen was a riddle that seemed to get more complicated by the day. Back then when they were barely out of college he had appeared simple enough; the nature of their relationship, if it could be called that, was fun and effortless. But the rug had been pulled from under her, his impending marriage making her re-examine her memories as a web of lies.

Now as he came back to her again and again she didn't see the same boy but a man weighted down by his choices, still covering himself up with one façade after another, and she was terrified to buy into it only to find herself lying on the ground again.

There were many questions she was itching to voice, the ones that had been eating at her since he had gone away, and many more to try and figure out who this new Oliver was. Yet every time she would bring something up a lie would leave his lips with an apologetic look thrown her way, making her drop the idea all together.

So Felicity tried to keep him at bay, playing a part as much as he was playing his; until Walter was gone.

He had been one of the few people in her life that had treated her without kid gloves, honesty and trust above all. Even when Moira had tried to get rid of her, surely after finding out she had been digging up her affairs, Walter had put his foot down, defending her for her loyalty and talent. In a world where everyone appeared to be something they weren't, Walter Steele had been sincere, direct. If there was something Felicity could do to help him she would take the chance.

She wasn't sure exactly how telling Oliver about the notebook would help but there was something about him that drew her in. Though she didn't trust him with herself, he sure knew how to keep a secret.

So she called him up and asked to meet somewhere quiet, implying her office wasn't safe enough. As he suggested the manor Felicity blushed, thankful he couldn't see her reaction through the phone; memories of the night she had spent there, though fogged from the alcohol, were still fresh in her mind.

Big Belly Burger then, he had said.

She smiled timidly at him through the windows before entering the little shop, pleased to find it relatively empty. His gentle smile fell as he noticed how nervous she was, fidgeting with something in her hands.

"Hi"

"Hi… Thank you for meeting me here, I was… nervous to come to your house" she said, biting her lower lip. He nodded, knowing all too well what she was talking about.

"It's ok" he stated, fighting the urge to reach a hand, to touch her, like he'd wanted to do so many times before.

"The thing is, I've been debating whether or not to share this with you for weeks… can I _trust_ you?"

The insecurity in her voice cut though him; he fisted his hands on his lap to avoid reaching for her.

"Oliver, I'm not an idiot. You've dropped some fairly ridiculous lies on me, and...yet I still feel like I can trust you. Why is that?" she asked, a humorless smile on place.

"Because I can't really lie to you, even when I know it's for the best" he pronounced before he could stop himself. It was the truth; when he came back he couldn't help himself, reaching for her help on his vigilante cases, trying to keep her out of the loop and failing miserably when it came to excuses. With everyone else he was able to balance the double life he was leading now, except with her. He had lied and deceived her enough in the past; he couldn't do it anymore. Still both Dig and he knew it would be dangerous to bring her into his battle, that she shouldn't face the dangers they put themselves through.

Yet in the dim light of the shop, blue eyes locked, he wanted to tell her everything. About himself, his father, the arrow. But would she walk away? She kept him at arm's length, still thinking of him as a cheater. Adding murderer to that list surely wouldn't help. No, there was still more of him she needed to know and believe before he could unveil the whole vigilante persona to her.

So holding her gaze he muttered four words that he desperately wished she would believe. "You can trust me".

She hesitated for a moment, blue eyes studying his face and, finding nothing but seriousness, decided to take a leap of faith.

"Have you ever seen this before?" she breathed, handing him the brown notebook.

He knit his eyebrows, examining it carefully. It seemed his other life had caught up to her before he could make the choice to bring her in.

"Where'd you get it?" he asked, eyes still locked on the list before him.

"From your step-father." She told him all about it, everything Walter had asked her to find and what she had uncovered and he listened quietly, though she could see how tension overtook him, white knuckles now clutching the book at the mention of his mother. She covered his hand with hers, easing the tight grip, worrying for his safety as much as the only lead she had on finding Walter.

"You know something about this." It wasn't a question, he had made it clear by his reaction upon spotting the notebook and there was no feeble lie he could throw at her right now.

"I do. I'll look into it, I promise." he reassured her, the last promise he had made to her still clear in her mind. Felicity nodded, knowing this one seemed more plausible but silently wishing he would someday fulfill his previous one.

He hadn't forgotten either.


	5. Everyone's waiting

_**A/N: **_This one was a tough one to write, but needed to be done. I'm really proud of it and hope it gives insight into who Oliver was before the island –in this story– and the kind of man he is now. As always, thank you for the support to this story, and hope you like it!

* * *

**EVERYONE'S WAITING  
**

_I know all the lines to say_

_The part I'm expected to play_

_But in the reflection I am worlds away__  
_

_When everyone's waiting_

_It makes it harder to hear what my heart keeps saying_

_Turn it off, I wanna turn it all off_

It had been an excruciating week.

Arguing with Diggle, fighting with himself over his mother's innocence; replaying that damn recording over and over again. There was something going on, something bigger than him, than the notebook.

Upon his return he believed his father's list was it, his own personal crusade he had to see through. He didn't expect it to get this complicated, to be questioning whether his father's demise and his hellish experience in the island due to the shipwreck had been anything more than an accident.

He didn't think it would be this hard to pretend to be that same man that sailed away back then, that devoted son and public's punching bag; and he certainly didn't expect to need _her_ this much.

Oliver had been keeping an eye on her since she had let on how much she knew about Walter's notebook and the danger it entailed. Part of it was for her safety, but there was more to it, something that kept him going back to her again and again.

It was a little over a week when she called him up rattled, having heard rumors over the web that Walter had been confirmed dead and they were planning a funeral, something he promptly denied, assuring her it wasn't over. Though that had calmed her considerably she was still shaken so he had offered to go to her.

She had refused awfully fast, that being a line she wasn't ready to cross yet. The memories of them in her apartment still fresh in mind, even the one night where it all ended. Still he couldn't let her be alone, not tonight. He needed her as much as she needed him, even if neither were willing to say it.

"Then I'll send a car for you"

"I'd rather not"

"It's ok, my mother isn't home" he cringed at his words "That didn't sound right. I meant we would be alone". Nope, that wasn't better. "Just come over, please… I need to talk to you, in person".

Felicity sighed into the phone, giving in.

A half hour later he opened the door and let her in, silently leading them to the room where they had reunited a few months before.

It dawned on her that they'd never directly talked about anything from _before_, not even acknowledging what had transpired between them; still it was clear by the awkwardness of their first meeting and the distance she kept between them that neither had forgotten about it.

In all honesty he had wanted to approach the topic quite a few times, while she worked some IT magic for him, but had always ended up swallowing his words. A simple apology wouldn't do, he was sure that even after all these time she hadn't forgiven him. But she had been civil and they had eased into a friendship of sorts, in which much was left unsaid.

Yet he ached for more. Even if he couldn't possibly be the man she deserved now he needed to at least make it right; the image she had of him was one of his past mistakes he desperately wanted to correct.

Felicity wandered into the room, curious eyes taking in the wooden panels until she stopped by the large window overlooking the yard.

"It is unreal this is your home" she whispered, making him wonder even if she was addressing him or simply talking out loud, another trait of hers he found endearing.

"Sometimes it doesn't feel like it either… not anymore" he replied honestly. She turned around to face him where he stood against the threshold. The irony not lost in her as this setting mirrored their first encounter after he went away, only this time she suppressed the urge to run for the door.

Walter. That was why she was here.

"Do you have any new leads on him?" Though it had been weeks she didn't sound hopeless like his mother, only a hint of fear lacing her words. It seemed his words from earlier had appeased her worries.

"Not yet" he admitted, much to his dislike. "But I'm looking into… something". Arguing with Diggle whether or not his mother was involved had to count for something, though he was still reluctant to believe she was in on this, whatever _this_ was.

"Is it about your mother?" she asked softly. Oliver turned to her, eyes locking for the first time since he had let her in. He held her gaze, letting her question hang in the air, silently giving her the answer.

Given what she had confided in him the week prior, she knew enough secrets about Moira to doubt her innocence. Oliver was taken by how easily she seemed to read him, thankful but terrified at the same time. There was so much darkness in him now that he never wanted her to discover.

"I'm afraid it might be"

She pondered his words, taking in the tired lines on his face and his slumped posture. This surely wasn't easy on him.

"I could help. Maybe dig in some more, see what I can find. It may be easier coming from me than having to go through it alone" she offered and saw a light smile form in his handsome face.

Still he remembered all too well the pile of casualties that list had brought on, and the threat in his mother's voice when she advised everyone stopped asking questions. _No_, he definitely didn't want Felicity anywhere near that or anything that could make her a target.

"I'd rather not. It isn't… safe" he muttered, restraining himself of disclosing more. Yet Felicity wasn't one to back down.

"Walter isn't safe and he's my friend. And you… you almost got killed twice already and that was after you survived being a cast away for five years." There was an edge on her voice, fear starting to creep in, he thought, but she looked angrier than anything else. "No one is truly safe, Oliver. Walter is not the first victim of this… thing, and I'm sure he won't be the last. So if there is _anything_ I can do to help, please let me."

She was dead serious, in a way that only compared to Diggle, his right hand, and himself. She wanted in, even though she didn't exactly know what she was talking herself into. After all she was an honorary member of their team already, but he hoped that being on the outside would keep her safe.

It didn't seem fair to him to storm back into her life after this long and throw her into his crusade, asking her to put her life in the line for a man she hardly knew; because the Oliver of back then had been shredded long ago, through death, pain and the brutal fight for survival.

Though she was far from weak, Felicity didn't deserve the pressure and hardship that came with this life he had chosen upon his return. Yet there she was, asking to be let in, to a part of his life hardly anyone knew. Seeing her determination made him wonder if she already knew about his secret identity, his weak excuses and knowledge of the notebook having tipped his hand. She wouldn't go to the police, that much he was sure of, but would she look at him the same way?

Staring at her from across the room he realized it couldn't get that much worse. Though not hatred, he could see the distance in her eyes, in the way she crossed her arms against her chest, as if raising a wall between them. Where once she had been open and inviting to him now she was guarded, and he really couldn't blame her.

She needed to know who he really was, who he had been back then. That was the only way she could ever trust him again, with herself, her thoughts, with her life.

"Do you remember what I last said to you?" he asked after what felt like forever.

"What?" she was taken aback, his deviation of the conversation not going unnoticed.

"When I went away, on the yatch. Not that night at your place, but the next morning. I called you… do you remember?" he paused for a beat, taking in her reaction as she gave a slight nod. She remembered it _all too well_.

"You know back then I used to say lots of things I didn't mean. Honesty wasn't really one of my strengths." She snickered; it still wasn't. "But that phone call… I meant every word I said. There is so much you didn't know, so much I wanted to tell you".

"Oliver, don't… you don't have to", she interjected.

"Except I do. All this time, on the island and since I've been back… I've pictured telling you everything a thousand times." He started walking, eyes everywhere but on her.

"I wasn't that guy you met at the bar, or the one you read on the papers. I was a poster child to my parents who were fighting to make me the son they wanted. I was a role model for little Thea, who didn't know how clueless I was. I was a boy who just didn't know who he wanted to be or do with his life, but was coward enough to let people push him around as they pleased." Felicity listened carefully, terrified of what was to come but anxious all the same; getting honest answers out of Oliver was a rare exception.

"Granted, I failed miserably at all of those. Dealing with responsibility wasn't my thing; back then I preferred alcohol much more". He chuckled to himself, surely replaying a reckless night of debauchery with Tommy, before he turned serious again. "I didn't want to be a Queen with everything it entailed; I would've much preferred having my trust fund without the weight of the name. That's why I didn't tell you who I was that night", he paused, eyes meeting hers for the first time since his speech had begun.

"And Laurel… she was one of my best friends, had been for a long time. I really don't know why she ever wanted to date me 'cause I was… _me_, relationships weren't my forte either. But she did and it was great at first. Over time, with her going to college and me away at mine it started to be too much. She wanted more and I didn't know how to deal with that. I cheated, taking the easy way out, but she took me back every time."

He took a deep breath, eyes now lost in the distance, looking through the window behind her. "I didn't deserve her, but she was safe, everything I knew, so I stuck with it. It wasn't much of a relationship but my parents were happy, and so was her, most of the time. We've been dating for years and my dad wanted me start working at the company to 'clean up my act' he said. Mom bought an engagement ring and gave me an ultimatum. I'd marry Laurel, start my career with my dad or I'd be cut off. I wondered if she knew…" he trailed off, now questioning whether the plan to take out his father had already been in motion and getting him ready to take over was just another play in his mother's chess game.

Shaking that thought away before anger overtook him, Oliver turned to her, studying the play of light on her delicate features. Blue eyes trained on him, Felicity remained silent, urging him to go on.

"I took the deal and proposed. Laurel knew what it was, an agreement, settling for a steady life of something good. I loved her, not like she deserved, but I thought that eventually I would when I became the man I was supposed to be. I thought that would be enough… until I met you."

Her breath caught in her throat, the intensity of his stare too much to handle. Thankfully he looked away first as she tried to take in everything he was saying.

"That night started as many others but, unlike before, I couldn't let you go. You were… _different_. I felt different with you, safe. Maybe it was the secrecy at first, but I could be myself with you. I was too selfish to do away with what we had because of Laurel, and too scared to be honest with you. I wanted to but had the tendency of screwing up. So I waited, escaping the inevitable." He went silent for a second and she noticed his clenched jaw, guilt ridden over his past.

"That's when I found out" she breathed.

His eyes shot to her, taking in her hesitant stance, scared she would make a run for it but knowing this had to be done.

"Yes." Holding her gaze he went on. "After I left your house that night I felt like hell. I had been happy for the first time in… longer I can remember. As selfish as that was, I couldn't bear to lose you. I wasn't brave enough to fight for you but… god, how I wanted to."

He ran a hand through his hair, approaching the time of his life he never wanted to look back on.

"Next I know my father is dragging me to this oversea trip. Laurel wanted to come along and I saw my chance." He paused again, struggling with his words, worried lines appearing on his forehead. "We were only a day into the trip at night when it happened. I told her the truth, about us, about how I really felt. She was hurt but took it in and was ready to move on, like many times before. But I couldn't this time; I wanted something else bad enough to fight her and my parents for it" blue eyes met, his voice dropping.

"We were yelling, not really caring about the storm going on outside. Next I know the yatch shook, we're tossed to the ground and Laurel… she's thrown from the room and I'm underwater." Silence overtook the room as his voice broke, dark memories washing over him.

"My father brought me afloat after a while. They'd made it to the life raft. I tried to look for her but she was… gone." Tears traveled down her cheeks at his words. Oliver looked at the ground, guilt taking over him. Now the weight she saw him carrying around made sense.

A few seconds passed before he pulled himself together and looked up at her again. "That's the last time I saw her." Angling himself to her he took a step forward. "Felicity… I know this doesn't make it right, that I hurt you. I'm sorry for that, I truly am. I just needed you to know I meant it; you deserved to know the truth".

She swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded numbly, unsure of what to do with this new information. She couldn't fathom what he went through, but somehow that didn't erase the pain she had felt. Before she could form a coherent thought he went on.

"I asked you to wait for me and I don't expect that you have. But know that I never forgot; not about us or what I said that day. And now everything seems to be falling apart and I wanted… I needed you to know that even then, when I was lost and hadn't got a clue of who I was, I knew I cared for you. And, in the island…" he paused; it wasn't lost to her how he winced just at the thought of his time away. "I realized the man I wanted to be; someone good enough for someone like you". His blue eyes pierced hers as her mouth hanged open, speechless.

"Ok" she mumbled. For someone with a knack for words she couldn't come up with anything better, still processing all this new information.

"Ok" he echoed, eyes locked on hers.

Silence stretched on for what seemed like ages but still not enough time for either of them to figure out what to do when the sound of the front door slamming shut filled the room.

"Man I get that you're still not used to being back, but staying home on a Saturday night? That's lame even for a cast away."

Tommy stopped by the doorsill at the scene before him. Oliver and Felicity stood too close for comfort, tension thick in the air.

"I guess I should've called first…"

Felicity shocked herself from the haze from Oliver's eyes and took a step back. Mumbling a hurried goodbye she stormed away, throwing a last look at him from over her shoulder.

Oliver slumped back against the wall at the sound of the door closing behind her.

Tommy studied him from afar before carefully approaching him, letting out a whistle.

"So this is what you meant by staying home… I approve". Tommy smiled, satisfied at Oliver's chuckle. It took a lot more than before to make him lighten up.

"It's not what you think"

"Really? Cause it looked like you were in some serious eye sex competition before I walked in".

"Tommy" Oliver cut him off, a warning in his tone. Still a smile played at his lips, glad his best friend's humor remained the same.

"Okay. I will drop this, for now. But someday you will have to tell me what's with you and this girl, Oliver. And move along, cause someone who looks like that won't stay single forever." At Oliver's threatening look he knew that was a touchy subject "Just saying…"

"Don't."

"Ok. But don't get mad when you hear 'I told you so'".

Oliver vowed to make sure that never happened.


	6. Secret

This chapter basically deals with what goes down in episode 1x14, The Odyssey. It's one of my favorites and, though here I'm only dealing with what happens in the present not the island, I hope I made it justice.

Since I'm starting a new semester at college tomorrow I probably won't be updating as often. That being said I usually comment about the progress of this story or whatever I'm writing at my tumblr, sometimes sharing a little snippet of it, so follow me there if you like (link is on my page).

Thanks to everyone who left reviews! Know I read and cherish them all :) _Hope you like it!_

* * *

**SECRET**

This is not how it was supposed to go.

It had been merely two days since he had told her about his past. She had walked away the moment she had a chance and he really couldn't blame her. She needed time, he understood, so he fought the urge to run to her, to ask her where they went next and instead focused on the mystery that was the undertaking.

Felicity knew about his past and he wanted her to know about his present, about his other self, the one draped in green at nights. But not like this; and definitely not this soon.

But Diggle had been right, as usual. His mother was a blind spot and he never could see clearly when it came to her. If it were any other target he would've spotted the gun she pulled from the drawer sooner, would have read through her diversion, would have probably already shot an arrow through her. But it wasn't.

He hadn't been fast enough, still taken aback by how she begged for her life in favor of him and Thea. The familiar sting of a bullet shot through his chest as he ran for cover. It didn't hit the heart or he'd be unconscious already, but it hadn't been far. His vision blurred as he stumbled through the parking lot, passing by his bike –he was in no condition to drive– and searching his only real option. Crawling into the small space of the backseat he waited for her, pressing on his wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

He fought the haze that clouded his mind as he heard the approaching footsteps. Felicity jumped from her seat at his hoarse voice calling her name. She was startled at his reveal but didn't scream or freak out, like everyone else would. Instead she studied him, mouth agape, surely putting the pieces together. His secrets, the island, bullet holes on laptops and black arrows. He begged her to take him to the foundry, barely registering her approval before a well-known darkness took over him.

* * *

Felicity tried and failed to pull Oliver out of her car. She ran a tired hand over her face, drying off sweat after her third attempt, only to find it covered in blood. He was bleeding out and fast. Desperate at seeing him unconscious, she ran to the club's back door where a key-pad greeted her. _This_ she could handle. Deftly hacking it she rushed down the stairs to what appeared to be the basement of his club, halting to a stop when a man who she recognized to be Oliver's bodyguard pointed a gun at her.

"Can you help me, he's… really heavy" she breathed panting.

With his help they brought Oliver inside and onto the gurney-like table at the center of the room. Her mind was flooding with thoughts and questions, trying to take this in, filling in the gaps Oliver had left in the dozen conversations they had had since he'd been back. It made sense but she wasn't expecting this. _Guess he had changed more than she imagined_.

The bodyguard, Diggle she remembered he was called, ran through the basement collecting medical supplies after he took off Oliver's hood and examined his wound. Medicine wasn't her forte but it looked bad, and Diggle's rushed pacing and distressed expression did little to soothe her.

She carefully followed his directions, trying her best not to get sick. Though Diggle seemed to know what he was doing, his last statement still made her shiver. '_Oliver's been through worse'_.

Letting her eyes wander down his chest she could see the proof of that. Countless scars marred his skin, some deeper, other more recent. There were a few tattoos as well, something that troubled her since Oliver hadn't seem like the type. But then he didn't seem like the vigilante, jumping off rooftops and arrowing criminals type either. This was just another proof she barely knew this new Oliver; even though much had been revealed in their last encounter.

It took a couple of hours –and quite a few swear words– but Diggle had managed to stop the bleeding and extract the bullet that had been lodged way too close to his carotid. Felicity was amazed she had kept her cool during that time, her hands only shaking slightly at the sight of a barely alive Oliver, green paint still smudged around his closed eyes.

As Diggle finished the stitches and thanked her she nodded numbly. Though he still looked worried, Diggle eased them into a light-hearted conversation, even pulling a smile or two from her. They recounted the many times she had inadvertently helped in their arrow missions, something that disturbed her but made her proud at the same time. Granted, they were making a lot of good work, could even be thought as superheroes of some kind, but where did she fit in this?

She always thought that Oliver's little jobs for her were a feeble excuse to get to see her, be close so he could make a move, or make it right, as he had declared the other night. Now she knew it was more complicated than that, that she'd been helping a wanted man. Still she couldn't say she would take it back, it wouldn't be true. Being associated with crime and deaths didn't sit right with her; but knowing she had prevented them as well gave her comfort. Vertigo had taken so many lives and now it was gone, because of them.

Diggle patted her on the shoulder, surely having seen the crease of concern on her forehead.

"It's ok, kid. It took me some time to get into the idea too, even longer to understand it; but he means well."

With that he walked away to wash off the blood that remained on him and she sat in the quietness of the foundry pondering what had happened that night.

* * *

He flat-lined once after that, taking her breath away and not in a good way. Even though she didn't know where she stood with Oliver right now Felicity knew she didn't want him dead. He'd survived way too much to go like this.

Diggle remained on edge for the rest of the night, pacing around the room, even throwing a few punches at a training dummy near a wrestling mat. He offered her to go home, get cleaned up; silently giving her an out from this. It sounded tempting and it would certainly make her life easier, but she knew this was her place to be.

So instead she occupied herself with Oliver's poorly set network, updating his software, even adding a few screens she had found upstairs –ones he could surely replace later, when he woke up–. Even in her mind she used _when_ instead of _if_, because the simple idea of this being it for him made her stomach turn.

Her heart stopped when the shrilling beep of his heart monitor broke the silence again, both her and Diggle rushing to his side. Thankfully it had been a false alarm and he was well, or as well as he could be.

She let her fingers feel the stitches and wounded flesh around them, her bright colored fingertips a stark contrast of this darkness he was living with. Letting her eyes wander around the lair she spotted his bow next to a set of arrows. She went for it and held it in her hands, testing the weight and noticing how massive and out of place it looked on her; with Oliver's height and build it surely was a perfect fit. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she remembered the time he had brought her the black arrow and she had said how ridiculous she found archery. Oliver hadn't seemed mad; actually she could remember him chuckling at her comment.

The smile soon faded and she put the bow down, recalling the many deaths attributed to it. Diggle noticed the change in her and told her his side of the story, the one that made being a part of this crusade bearable, right. It seemed nothing escaped him and he did have some valid points; there were casualties, Walter being a potential one.

Still as she studied Oliver laying there a fire burned through her at the thought that he had killed someone, multiple someones if she believed the press. She wondered when and why it started, definitely on the island, since the boy he had met before could barely see a paper cut… or was he even a better liar she gave him credit for? Felicity stored that question for later, along with the many others that had flooded her mind since the reveal of his secret identity.

First he needed to be safe, conscious, a steady heart beating against his new scar. She allowed herself to run a hand through his hair, knowing she wouldn't dare when he awoke, and carefully cleaned up the remaining paint on his face. Under the dim light of the basement he looked pale, fragile, nothing like the man she had grown accustomed to these past few months.

In that moment she knew that even through her pain over their past failed relationship and this new deadly side of him she was still not over him. Oliver Queen was trouble, even more than before, but she couldn't stay away, didn't want to albeit she probably should.

* * *

It took a few more hours before he came to, cracking up a joke much to her and Diggle's surprise. Felicity smiled brightly at him, allowing herself to breathe deeply for the first time since she had seen him bleeding in her car.

He winced as he sat up and she took a hesitant step forward, worried he might tear up his stitches. She stole a glance at Diggle and at his firm nod or approval she relaxed. Oliver looked at Dig's handy work on his shoulder, cringing at how gnarly it looked and the tricky spot the bullet had lodged. His mother sure was a good shot.

"It's not bad" he said with a heavy sigh. "So how am I gonna explain this one?" Another lie he would have to utter to his loved ones.

"Hickey gone wrong?" his trusty bodyguard quipped with a smile in place. Oliver simply gave him a frowning look, noticing Felicity's flushed cheeks at the comment. More than a few heated memories came to mind but he quickly buried them in a corner of his mind at the risk of embarrassing them any further.

Her mind seemed to be in the same place as she darted to the computers, now plural, and tapped away while telling them what she was doing. Oliver treaded to her, studying the changes she had made to his system. How long had he been asleep?

She spun around in the large chair, a proud smile on her face at what she had accomplished. He returned the smile while looking for any trace of fear in her, but she didn't seem to be aiming for the exit and, by the looks of it, she had stayed with them all night.

So he dared to ask if she would stay for good, hesitant, not demanding even though he wanted her to take the offer so badly, but knew it was only fair to give her an out. This is not how he had planned on bringing her into the team; he thought he could ease her into it, disclosing his identity beforehand, giving her time to process it all instead of throwing his life in her hands. Yet there she was, though not taking his offer all together, agreeing to work with them for now, for Walter.

It wasn't lost to him the edge in her voice as she said she knew about his notebook, identical to the one she had given him not that long ago. He looked at Diggle who shrugged, recounting how he had told him to tell her the truth all together or let her be. Now she knew half of it he could be more honest with her, no more made up excuses to pay her a visit or get her help.

"That's my offer", Felicity stated, blue eyes boring through his.

"Ok" he responded, saving everything else he wanted to tell her for later. Unlike the ok they had shared that night by the window this one held hope of a partnership, or a future, though not definite it was still something, better than the uncertainty the last one implied.

"Thank you" he said, gratitude clear in his voice.

She nodded slightly and held his gaze for a few seconds before looking down at her fidgeting hands, a habit she turned to when nervous. Oliver let his eyes travel down her neck to her outfit and reached for her before he could stop himself.

He frowned as his fingers lightly traced the blood still on her skin, barely atop the edge of her sweeter, which was also covered in crimson red.

"It's yours" she breathed, trying to soothe him.

"I know. I–I'm sorry I brought you into this. I didn't mean to–" he trailed off knowing it was half a lie. He wanted to bring her in; he didn't mean to hurt her.

"What? You didn't think I would've eventually found out? Hate to break it to you, Oliver, but your excuses aren't that great."

He huffed at that, remembering an awful one he had crafted to cover up a vertigo sample he needed analyzed. Getting serious he looked at her face again. "I know this is a lot".

"It is" she agreed, "but it'll sink in soon enough." With one final smile she walked away, his hand dropping to his side.

Before she was out the door she turned around and called at him. "I'm glad you are safe" a knowing smile and then she was gone.

He watched her go, her words resonating in his head. Those were the same ones she had uttered months before when he came back, still this time they sounded much better; heartfelt instead of a simple pleasantry.

"Are we gonna talk about _this_?" Diggle's deep voice called from behind him, wordlessly talking about Felicity and whatever was going on between them.

"Not now, John. I need to be with my family".

Still he didn't drop it, needing to make him see the danger they were putting Felicity in and then tackling the even bigger elephant in the room: Moira. Even though he had almost died due to her, Oliver was still defending his mother fiercely, clawing at any excuse and threat he could think of to make him stand down. When he had made his point clear he got changed and excused himself.

Diggle saw Oliver go as well, shaking his head at his best friend's stubbornness. This could be a problem.


End file.
